


Lighthouse

by Klitch



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Dreams, Dreamsharing, M/M, headcanon central
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 17:43:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9618383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klitch/pseuds/Klitch
Summary: “I’ll be the lighthouse, so you be my anchor.” Falling through nothingness, Benzai reaches for Akiyama’s hand. For K Rare Pair Week 2017.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Second fic for Rare Pair Week ^^ I love these two together. Also this is just a pile of headcanons because I couldn’t help myself

_Falling._

_Small yellow flowers petals slipped past Benzai's hands, delicate and broken between his fingers. He felt like he was drowning in flowers, petals in his eyes, slipping down his throat._

_A hand entwined in his and someone called his name._

_Red string, tying two hands together, and the sound of a bell ringing. Whoever was next to him held tight and they were falling together through an ocean of yellow flowers that slowly darkened to blue and then to gray and black, like sinking in water._

_“You can't find the way out without a lighthouse.” A voice echoed in his ears, and he didn't recognize it._

_“You'll need to find an anchor, to hold you down.” Another voice with no sound, but he heard anyway. Benzai turned his head._

_Akiyama looked back at him, black flower petals in his hair, and smiled._

–

“Have you seen him? The new transfer.”

“He's so sophisticated.”

Benzai ignored the words as he walked through the halls of his new school, one hand on his hip.

_Boring._ He wasn't a fan of this type of place, a small school full of country bumpkins, but his father had changed jobs and he couldn't exactly stay in Tokyo by himself. The countryside wasn't so bad anyway, though he couldn't help but look with distaste at it sometimes.

Sophistication was key, appearance was key. Benzai was very careful to keep his image looking as he wanted it. Untouchable, and maybe a little cold, and mysterious. If he kept it up, he could get a date and a free dinner, maybe play around a little afterward.

(And anyway, he'd been told if he moved to the country without complaint his parents would get him a new cat and he really wanted another cat.)

The door to the gym was ajar and Benzai smoothed his hair with a hand as he stepped inside. The school's kendo club was said to be better than decent, and Benzai had been a regional champion at a better school in a more crowded prefecture.

“Useless!” He stepped inside just in time to see a larger student knock down a smaller one, growling in irritation, the smaller student's wooden sword going flying as he fell backwards and hit his head on the floor. The attacking student, tall and too wide and with an unappealing square jaw, raised his sword as if to continue the attack and Benzai reached out a hand to grab the wooden sword without even thinking.

“Yamashita-kun, please stop!” A commanding voice stopped them both and another student walked over. He was short too, Benzai couldn't help but notice, and his hair was a bit of a mess, covering one eye. He looked very serious and a bit on edge but Benzai had to admit his voice carried well, commanding and sharp.

“We won't be champions this year if you keep letting these _weaklings_ in the club.” Yamashita threw his sword down, spitting in the general direction of the student with the messy bangs. “I'm going for a walk.”

“Ah, but--” The student with the bangs stopped, a small red flush to his face, and then the nervousness melted into a gentle smile. “All right. Get some air, and come back.”  


“Yeah, yeah.” Yamashita waved him away, almost running into Benzai's shoulder as he left. Benzai fixed him with a cold imperious glare and was given a curious furrow of the eyebrows in return.

“I'm sorry you had to see that.” The kid with the bangs again, having helped up the fallen student and now smiling again like an idiot, like he was a soft touch. The sort of person who wouldn't so much as stay out a minute later than his curfew, Benzai thought (Benzai never outstayed his curfew, of course, but that was because he'd negotiated his way to not having one). “Are you here to join?”

“Mmm. I'm new.” Benzai smiled himself, his best cool and collected look, and the kid with the bangs stared blankly back at him. “Benzai Yuujirou.”

“I see. Pleased to meet you.” Another gentle smile, small and shabby like the unimpressive kid standing in front of him. “I'm the vice captain of the kendo club. Akiyama Himori.”

–

_He was chasing something down a blue road that slipped and swayed under his feet, as though it was nothing more than a patch of starlight drawn along the ground. The sky above was colored in streaks of red and gold and looked like a child's painting that was still wet, the colors smearing together and dripping down. The unseen thing ahead of him fluttered in the wind and Benzai slipped and fell face first into a deep dark snowdrift, and sank._

_“Benzai!” A hand grabbed onto his wrist, pulled him out, and then he was in a forest filled with snow-covered trees. Someone had strung them all with purple lights that blinked softly on and off, on and off._

_“Akiyama, where--” Benzai coughed, as though a lump of snow was suddenly stuck in his throat, and Akiyama let go of his wrist._

_“I got here first, so I put up some lights.” Akiyama's body was fading away but he was smiling anyway, hands clutching at his elbows as though he was cold, and there was something dark like blood dripping down his fingers. Benzai felt an uncharacteristic rush of fear and reached for him, blindly. Akiyama stepped back, out of reach._

_“You just need to follow the lights. I'll leave a trail of smoke through the woods for you to follow, and I'll be the north star in the sky the whole way. You just have to promise me that you'll let me guide this time.”_

_“What are you talking about?” Akiyama was fading away into small blue lights and Benzai's body shuddered in the sudden cold._

_“There's no time, Benzai. You'll understand, though. You're Benzai, after all.” A ghost of a smile, from a ghost of a man. “I'm going to be your lighthouse, so you'll have to be the anchor, all right?”_

_He disappeared so suddenly Benzai couldn't even recall the exact moment that he was gone, and all that was left was a small pile of red string in the snow._

_That, and flickering lights on the trees, leading deeper into a dark dark forest. Benzai heaved himself up on shaking legs, and followed the lights._

–

“Someone put a _live chicken_ in Yamashita-san's locker.”

“A live chicken?”

“How did it even get there?”

“I bet it was Satoru-kun. Yamashita-san knocked him down in practice the other day, you know.”

“The teacher was really mad. Someone's going to get in trouble.”

There was a line of shadows stretching out on the gym wall in front of him, talking. Benzai crossed his arms, looking bored.

Well, it hadn't been a bad prank. A little crude, maybe, and it had taken an hour to catch the chicken, which had defecated all over the unfortunate student's locker and belongings, ruined his shoes. There was talk of suspension, if the perpetrator was caught.

A million voices whispering gossip, all of them blurred and indistinct in Benzai's ears, and he sighed. The same everywhere, really. It was all appearances, in the end, shadows on a wall.

And at the end of that line of shadows, a kid with messy bangs listening in rapt concentration, a slight flush to his cheeks.

No one seemed to be looking at Akiyama, Benzai noticed. A few comments were directed to him and he let them rest on his head just long enough to pass them back, pleasant smiles and a bit of a stern look, a head shake over how unfortunate the whole thing was.

But his face was just a little flushed, and there was something in the curve of that pleasant smile that made Benzai's stomach flutter as he crossed the gym floor to stand beside the short vice captain of the kendo club.

“Where did you get a live chicken?” Benzai asked conversationally, not even looking at Akiyama as he spoke. Akiyama stiffened slightly beside him, but his smile didn't waver.

“A family friend keeps them. Don't worry, they won't miss the one.”

“You could get suspended.”

“Yamashita-kun needs to learn restraint.” Akiyama did turn to look at him then, green-gray eyes piercing and intelligent, and Benzai suddenly realized that Akiyama knew it too, about appearances. “And my name won't ever come up in conversations like these. That kind of prank would be inappropriate.”

Benzai couldn't help but smile a bit in return, a hand on Akiyama's shoulder, and Akiyama hummed a little as he took a step closer to Benzai's side.

“Is that so?”

“That's so.”

–

_The road was long and cut at his feet, but Benzai followed the lights._

_The trees grew larger the farther he walked, hands reaching out for him, and there were echoes of voices rustling between the leaves._

“It was a Strain, they were both--”

“Yes, they're still breathing, but they won't wake up.”

“Akiyama-san tried to push Benzai-san out of the way and--”

_A crack of blue lightning, and a soft snow started to fall._

“I see. Dreams, then?”

_Benzai shook the snow off his coat, watching as it turned to flower petals and danced away. The landscape ahead of him shifted, icicles cutting through the ground like knives, and he had to dodge to avoid them as they split the ground at his feet._

_“What...?” Breathing hard, and Benzai's hands were numb. There was a glass coffin the center of a cage of icicles, and Benzai took a step forward._

_The ice sloped beneath his feet and he slid, fell, stood and slid again. His breathing came fast and shallow now, and he was lightheaded. The ice turned to water underneath him and then he was wading, wet and heavy and frozen to the bone as he reached for the coffin still floating there on a flat plane of ice._

“I'll be the lighthouse, so you be my anchor.”

_A voice he thought he knew, and then a whirlpool opened beneath him and Benzai slipped down into a dark tunnel of water as the lights above him blinked out._

–

“There you are.”

Cold wind bit at the tips of Benzai's hair as he leaned out of the door behind the school building. Classes were over and even most of the clubs had finished meeting for the day, only a few students left behind to finish cleaning and putting things away.

Akiyama looked up at him, that calm one-eyed gaze and messy bangs over his right eye as always, a cigarette in his mouth as he sat crouched on cold stone steps near the back door.

“I'm sorry. I thought you'd gone home.” Akiyama put the cigarette back up to his mouth, watching the smoke curl in the air, and Benzai sat down beside him. “Did you want one?”

“No. Why would I want a smoke in a place like this?” He only smoked at places where he could be seen smoking, casually, because Benzai had been told he looked striking with a cigarette, even for a high schooler. Benzai regarded Akiyama calmly. “I still can't believe you smoke.”

“A-ah, well.” Akiyama's face colored a little and he laughed sheepishly. “It helps my nerves?”

“Mmm.” Benzai accepted that with a nod, face impassive as he watched Akiyama smoke. Nerves, of course. Akiyama was like that – calm and collected at the oddest of times and easily flustered others, able to take control of situations swiftly when needed and yet often standing there fretting when things started falling apart. Benzai had caught him outside smoking when the van that was to take the kendo club to a match in the next prefecture had broken down and a replacement was unable to be found, and for a moment he thought he'd mistaken Akiyama for someone else.

He'd learned to recognize them by now, of course, Akiyama's mess of small stress reactions whenever things started to get too out of hand. Smoking, or rearranging the trophies in the club room, sitting in the middle of Benzai's kitchen almost obsessively making tea – anything to keep his hands busy and there were times Benzai found it hard to reconcile, the guy who could calmly lead the kendo club to a come from behind win and the one who dusted the entire club room because he'd been scolded by a teacher.

“Everyone's talking about graduation.” Akiyama's voice was quiet and thoughtful, but that was usually when he was most worth listening to. “And university, after.”

“I'm aware.” Benzai had been considering his own options, a drawer full of acceptance letters testament to that fact. He could go back to Tokyo, live somewhere nice, commute to and from school and spend his evenings in bars and social clubs. 

He could, but it didn't seem as appealing now as it had two years ago when he'd moved here.

“I'm joining the defense force.” Akiyama didn't look at him, eyes fixed on the burning tip of his cigarette, his words so much smoke in the air and the smell lingered.

“I heard. Your sister mentioned it.” They'd run into each other on the train and he'd been recognized as 'Himori's friend.' He hadn't really been surprised though, thinking it over afterward. Akiyama was steady and justice-minded – after a fashion, of course, and barring the occasional chicken incident which had never been blamed on him even in passing – and he was considered one of the stars of the school for his skill in kendo, having finally taken over as Captain when they became third years. “So you won't go to university?”

“No. I've already submitted my application.” Akiyama paused, taking another slow drag of his cigarette. “My father was in the defense force.”

Benzai didn't let any reaction show on his face, though the use of the past tense hadn't been lost on him. He knew that Akiyama lived with his mother's family – great-grandmother, grandmother, mother, two older sisters. There had never been a mention of his father, though the first time Benzai had visited he'd seen the small, well-kept shrine in the living room.

“Have you told the rest of your family?” Benzai asked finally.

“No, but they know. It's expected.” Benzai must have let something slip then, because Akiyama smiled up at him, a bit hesitant. “A-ah, that's not why I'm joining! I want to, myself.” He laughed quietly, eyes low. “Grandmother said I should get married before I went, though. I'm sorry to be a disappointment.”

“That's a tall order, isn't it? We're only third years in high school.” Benzai huffed a bit, a slight smile on his face, but there was something about the low cast in Akiyama's expression that made him pause. Akiyama hadn't dated a single girl in their shared years of high school – Benzai had, of course, a few on and off flings that largely meant nothing, but then again Akiyama wasn't the sort of person who had flings, or who others had flings with. Benzai couldn't imagine him dating anyone unless he was one hundred percent serious about it. “What kind of women do you like anyway?”

“Eh?” Akiyama nearly dropped his cigarette in surprise and Benzai couldn't help but laugh a little.

“I just wondered.”

“O-oh.” Akiyama paused, looking confused. “I guess...I seem to be surrounded by older women a lot, don't I?”

“So that's your preference?” Benzai laughed and Akiyama seemed to brighten, cigarette falling loose from his hand, long fingers trailing smoke.

_The defense force, huh._ Benzai hadn't thought about it before, but...it might not be that bad of a career after all.

–

_Shallow water licked at Benzai's ankles, and he'd lost his boots. The river was clogged by flower petals, blue and yellow and white, occasionally a small red petal like a drop of blood mixed in between. There was a light on the horizon, and he followed it._

_His coat was soaked and heavy with water, and he didn't remember how he'd ended up in this place, what he was chasing. There were two moons in the sky and a small orange light wavering in between, and that was the light he followed._

_It reminded him of the glowing tip of Akiyama's cigarette, and the wind that blew past smelled of smoke as Benzai moved towards the light._

–

“Benzai, my head hurts.”

“Because you went out drinking even though you're sick.” Their room was small, cramped and smelled slightly stale, the lingering scent of military housing that seemed to permeate the entire base. Part of Benzai couldn't help but recoil every time they stepped inside, thinking of clean dry apartments with windows that overlooked the entire city, and then Akiyama would brush his shoulder or touch his wrist and smile that gentle smile of his and suddenly it felt like home again, like this was the place Benzai was supposed to be.

It was always like that with Akiyama now, and Benzai didn't even know when it had happened – three months ago when they'd joined the Defense Force together, six months ago when they'd sat together on the steps behind the school, two years ago when he'd found himself staring at a short calm boy who was the only member of the kendo club not in any way made a suspect in his own prank. 

They'd gone down to the nearest bar earlier with some of the other members of the force, just to be companionable. They were both well liked in their squad, Akiyama perhaps a little more than Benzai but both of them known for being steady and dependable. The bar was cheap and the beer was cheap, and Benzai had been less than impressed with the atmosphere. The company hadn't been too bad though, their comrades and a handful of girls who lived near the base, who smelled like dollar store perfume and smiled at him openly when he offered to buy their drinks. The girls had fussed over Akiyama a little too, no doubt taking in his quiet demeanor and the way he wouldn't meet anyone's eyes directly as something akin to the smell of fresh meat in the air. Akiyama had ordered two drinks and finished both before Benzai had noticed the distinct redness of his face and the brightness of his eyes. The girls had laughed and so had their comrades – joking about what a lightweight Akiyama was, how of course you couldn't expect someone so proper and rule-abiding to be able to hold his liquor. Benzai knew better though, knew full well that Akiyama could outdrink him easily on a good day, and he'd quietly berated himself for not noticing the fever sooner.

“I'm sorry. I ruined your night.” Akiyama was swaying a little and Benzai lowered him down onto the shabby couch in the center of the room. Akiyama tugged at his sleeve, single visible eye wide like a child's, and with a sigh Benzai sat down beside him and put a hand on his forehead, felt the heat radiating there.

“It's fine. I wouldn't have stayed there without you anyway.” His own face felt oddly hot, as though there was something humid in the air. Summer was ending and the air conditioning tended to break if touched, and Benzai loosened the collar of his shirt. Akiyama watched him curiously, gaze never wavering and alcohol on his breath.

“Still. You looked like you were having fun.” Akiyama started to move as if to rise and then fell back again, covering his face with one hand. Benzai's own body moved thoughtlessly, appearance forgotten as always when it was just the two of them, and he pressed a hand to Akiyama's red cheeks.

“You're feverish. You should rest. Akiyama. We have training tomorrow, and you never call in sick.” If Akiyama took the day off he would likely end up scolded at by their superior officer, and if that happened then once the fever went down Akiyama would probably rearrange all the clothes in his drawers. 

(Cigarettes were a luxury, and he knew Akiyama was running low.)

“Yes. My head hurts.” Akiyama all but fell forward, chin resting on Benzai's shoulder, and he smelled like alcohol and like _Akiyama,_ a smell Benzai already knew down to his bones.

“You can't rest here, Akiyama, come on.” Benzai shook him lightly and Akiyama stared at him blearily around the mess of hair that was falling into his eyes. 

_It's grown longer, huh._ Without even thinking Benzai pushed some of the hair away from Akiyama's face and Akiyama averted his eyes almost shyly.

“Why do you cover them like that?” The words were low and murmured, and it took Benzai a moment to recognize his own voice. “Your eyes are...”

“My grandmother said my gaze was too forward,” Akiyama said, simple and matter of fact and a little bit not there. “When I was little. So I grew the bangs out.”

“It's getting long,” Benzai said, hands still stroking Akiyama's hair, trying not to think about how soft it felt under his fingertips. “Should I cut it for you?”

“Benzai's too.” And then Akiyama's hands were running through his own hair, the hair Benzai still kept perfectly trimmed and straight. Their faces were very close, and Benzai didn't move. “It's long.”

“It's not as bad as yours. Mine's neater, so it grows evenly on both sides.” He could feel Akiyama's breath on his skin, warm on his cheeks, and Benzai felt something hot building in his chest.

“Benzai...don't hate me, all right?” And then something warmer than that breath – Akiyama's lips, pressing over his, and it didn't even occur to Benzai to pull away.

–

_He could see it again in the distance, the glass coffin in the middle of the cage of ice. He was standing on a darkened shoreline staring out at the sea, and every step closer Benzai took the tide would drift further out and the coffin would push further away._

_The light fluttered like a butterfly and rested on the top of the coffin, and Benzai took another step towards the sea. The air was cold and he shivered, feeling ice on the tips of his normally immaculate hair._

“Their vitals are dropping--!”

“Someone call the doctor, we need--”

“Benzai-san, Akiyama-san!”

_The wind was cold and smelled like alcohol and cigarettes, and Benzai ran forward into the water._

–

“Should we go visit your family for the new year?”

It was chilly in the base housing so they laid together on Akiyama's bed, wrapped in blankets. Akiyama was smoking – inside, which he normally never did and especially not in such close quarters. He was always very insistent about that sort of thing, about how the smoke would seep into the blankets and leave a smell, how something could get set on fire accidentally. But there was snow on the ground and they'd been doing double drills lately in preparation for possible future deployment. It was an open secret that any family visits were best completed before the start of the new year.

“Mine? I suppose we could,” Benzai said thoughtfully. The smell of Akiyama's cigarette was already lingering on his hair but it didn't bother him as much as it might have once. There was no need for appearances here, after all, in the dark with the two of them together and his arms wrapped around Akiyama's torso. “Should we stop by to see yours as well? It would be on the way.”

“Ah, well...” Akiyama stared at his cigarette and then put it out on the ashtray next to the bed. “They're a little overbearing this time of year. I'd rather visit yours.”

“Akiyama.” Benzai regarded him sharply and Akiyama smiled back, calm as the evening sky.

“My mother asked me about it last week. I apologized and said we were busy.” He shrugged. “I told her maybe once Setsuko-oneesan sets a wedding date I might be able to get some time off.”

“Ah. She's getting married?”

“Yes. I told you, remember? A man who works in her office.” Akiyama shifted, feeling small somehow under Benzai's fingers even though he could feel the muscles there. “You know how my mother gets, when you mention marriage. Grandmother has been asking too.”

“Do you intend to just never tell them?” Benzai's voice stayed calm, steady, but his hands tightened a little around Akiyama's frame and he buried his face in Akiyama's hair.

“They know you're my school friend. That's not a secret.” Akiyama turned his face and leaned up for the kiss. “But this...you know they won't...” His hands twitched, a stress reaction in the making, and Benzai kissed the top of his head to calm him down.

It wasn't like he'd expected it, any sort of happily ever after where they stood side by side in military uniforms and kissed in public. His own family was torn on the subject – his mother had been giving him knowing looks even in high school when he'd brought Akiyama by to visit and he knew there was safety at least in that quarter, but who knew about the rest of the family. It was easy enough to keep up appearances there, at any rate – all those girls in middle and high school, most people wouldn't expect a thing from him. And even if they did, Benzai was confident he could sail through any objections the way he always did, straight to the point and cutting his way through, find the easiest way around. Akiyama was different though. Akiyama's family was old and tradition bound, and Akiyama _cared_ what they thought, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

“We can go visit my family.” Benzai felt Akiyama relax beneath him and they fell back together against the bed, Akiyama on top of Benzai's chest and looking down at him with a relieved smile.

“It's cold.” Akiyama said it as if it was the most interesting fact in the world, that it was cold and their heater was broken, and that they only had blankets and body heat to warm them.

Benzai leaned up and took Akiyama's face into his hands, and kissed him until they were both breathless.

–

_He was walking on thin cracked ice out into the center of the ocean and Benzai had to step lightly in order to keep his feet._

_Something was moving just below the ice, something large and dark, swimming in lazy arcs like a predator that knows it has all the time in the world to wait for prey. Part of Benzai was well aware that moving in such conditions was a poor idea – the wind was blowing hard and his clothes were a mess of tatters, his shoes gone, his hair tangled and caked with snow. Still he stepped out onto the ice, towards the small glowing light and the curve of a coffin in front of him._

 _The air smelled like smoke – no, the air smelled like_ Akiyama, _like Akiyama's cigarettes, the way they lingered on his skin and hair. It made him want to reach his arms out, grasp warm skin, but the light kept pulling out of reach._

_There was a crack in the ice beneath his feet, and two eyes watching him. There was smoke on the horizon, and the sun was rising at the same time the moon set._

_Benzai ignored it all, the sun and the moon, the beast beneath his feet, and the only thought that rang clear in his mind was a single word._

Akiyama.

–

“I made tea.”

Akiyama's voice was oddly hollow and Benzai lay boneless on his side in the bed.

The base was small and cramped and old fashioned, in a small island south of Japan. They'd been sent on a secret mission, hunting rumors of a terrorist group that had been planting unrest amongst the populace.

The terrorists had been hiding out in a small building that doubled as a school. The squad ahead of theirs had been sent in first, to strike quickly before their prey could escape.

The bomb had gone off shortly after, and Benzai had been the second person through the door to witness the carnage left behind.

“I'm fine.” Benzai's voice sounded dull to his own ears, and he stared at his hands clasping at his pillow.

There had been a dead cat, right inside the door. Somehow that was the image that wouldn't leave his mind, the poor thing's remains there in the rubble that had once been a building. Even though the mangled bodies of his comrades had been there too, a few still moaning softly in pain, all Benzai could remember was the small sad ball of fur and blood that had once been a cat.

“You'll feel better if you have tea.” Akiyama's voice was gentle as he pressed a warm cup against Benzai's cheek. The cup trembled, just slightly.

_His hands are shaking._ A small realization, in the middle of everything.

Benzai had been the second person through the door. Akiyama had been the first. 

Akiyama had been the first and hadn't hesitated even for a second, yelling orders to the others behind them to secure the area, to look for survivors, to see who could be saved and who was already beyond their help. His voice hadn't wavered for a moment at that time, his gaze sharp and cold and certain. There were already whispers of possible future promotion, of how much promise he'd shown, how steady he'd been in a crisis.

Steady Akiyama, who had already made four pots of tea that no one was drinking, who had smoked three cigarettes and dusted the corners of the ceiling, all while Benzai lay curled up in bed and thought about a dead cat.

“Akiyama.” Benzai let the name linger in his mouth, not bothering to brush the cup away. Akiyama set it down on the bedside table anyway and then sat down next to Benzai.

“It's all right. No one expects any of us to be unaffected.” Akiyama's voice was steady even though his hands were not.

“Himori.” Akiyama froze at the sound of Benzai's voice, and Benzai reached out for him.

This time when their lips pressed together it was hot and desperate, Benzai's hands digging into Akiyama's wrists and Akiyama letting him, Akiyama opening his mouth and letting Benzai's tongue slip inside and then there were shaking fingers tearing at the buttons to his shirt and everything smelled like sweat, like blood and stale tea and cigarettes. Benzai brushed the hair away from Akiyama's eyes and that intent gaze seemed to pierce into him, seemed to swallow him whole and break him into pieces and then build him up again, and Akiyama's fingers on his skin were warm.

Later, that was what Benzai would remember about the whole experience: a blurry afterimage of blood and carnage and then there sharp and clear against the sky, Akiyama's body moving against him, and the way Akiyama's hands never stopped shaking.

–

_Akiyama was asleep, and Benzai pressed his hands flat against the glass of the coffin._

_There was something suffocating in it, seeing him lying there with the glass between them. There was frost on Akiyama's hair and his lips were blue. White flowers surrounded him, glowing with soft lights that blinked on and off._

_“Himori--!” Benzai choked on cold wind, entire body shaking as he clawed at the glass. Everything felt like it was falling away, all the usual appearances – his calm demeanor shattered into bits, his hair a mess, his clothes, everything, his fingers red and bleeding and the nails worn down to nothing. It didn't matter. The water was up to his torso and threatening to sweep the glass coffin away, out into the center of the frozen ocean where the hungry thing waited, and Benzai held tight and tried to drag it back._

_“Wake up!” A hoarse command – even his voice gone, the smooth steady tones replaced by something so rough it scratched his throat to speak – but Benzai still kept shouting. “Himori!”_

_Lights on the horizon and the coffin threatening to float away, and Benzai held tight._

_Even if there was nothing else left of him, after all, there would always be Akiyama to bring him back, and that was what mattered._

–

“Oh, Benzai. You're back.”

The first thing Benzai saw the moment he opened the door to his dorm was Akiyama's smile, soft and pleased and gentle as always. He was sitting next to the bottom bunk – Benzai's, normally – with his computer open on his lap, no doubt working on a report of some kind, and he was leaning on a large soft pillow that was shaped like a cat (Akiyama had given it to him as a gift when they'd joined Scepter 4 and the rest of the force had assumed it was some kind of gag gift. Benzai slept with it on his bed every night, and Akiyama never laughed about it).

Scepter 4's dorms were spacious and clean compared to where they had lived while in the defense force, and Benzai had to admit that for all the odd things he had encountered in his time here he much preferred the Blue clan with all its regal trappings and clean lines. And beyond that, after having to constantly shift belongings from place to place based on where they were deployed and for how long, it was nice to have something....steady.

Well, not that there hadn't been _one_ constant, at least, and Benzai crossed the floor to sit on his bunk. Akiyama leaned against his legs, eyes half closed.

“Are you still working?” Benzai asked, idly running a hand along Akiyama's chin and up to brush his bangs. 

“I wanted to get this report finished before morning training,” Akiyama said. “If you want to rest I can go into the common room so you can turn off the lights?”

“It's fine this way.” They lapsed into silence then and Benzai couldn't help but notice how _comfortable_ it felt, just him and Akiyama there in the quiet. He'd thought about asking if Akiyama wanted to go out and celebrate his 'promotion' – they'd already been squad leaders, which was a high post enough, but Akiyama was officially fourth in command now, and that was something to be proud of (though there was the issue of the new _third_ in command, a bad-tempered brat who Benzai himself had little use for, but Akiyama had worked with this 'Fushimi' a few times and apparently considered him to be a talented person, and that was enough for Benzai).

Akiyama hummed a little in his throat, fingers working across the keys, eyes intent on his work even as Benzai ran fingers through his hair, stroked his cheek. Akiyama arched his head back just a bit, enough so that Benzai's fingers could trace the line of his jaw, and a small laugh escaped as Benzai reached the ticklish spot behind Akiyama's left ear.

“You're in a good mood,” Akiyama noted, glancing back at him, and Benzai shrugged.

“I like being here with you.” He said it plain enough, not bothering to hide behind words or images, and Akiyama's eyes widened just a bit, his face coloring slightly even as the smile on his face grew.

“I like being with you too,” Akiyama said simply, leaning his head back so that Benzai could press a kiss against his forehead.

There was that companionable silence again, and then Benzai spoke.

“There was a bit of a problem in the office.”

“Oh?”

“Fushimi-san was giving Doumyouji quite the chewing out.” Benzai kept his voice perfectly even. “It seems someone released a chicken in Hidaka's room, that he found when he tried to sneak out of work early to take a nap. Doumyouji insists he doesn't even know where to find a live chicken around here.”

“They're both really in need of supervision, aren't they,” Akiyama said, the same bland smile on his face, but as their gazes met there was a definite spark in his eyes. Benzai laughed quietly.

“Yes, yes they are.”

–

_Akiyama's hand was entwined with his, Benzai was sure of it, even though his skin was so cold he could barely feel his fingers._

_The glass coffin had splintered beneath his hands, leaving deep scratches and blood in its wake, and the wounds burned and ached as he trudged his way through the water towards the shoreline where lights were shimmering._

_He couldn't turn around. Somehow Benzai knew that he couldn't – he remembered Akiyama's steady voice reading the story to him in high school, the Greek myth of a man who went to the underworld to bring back his lover and lost her by looking back. He didn't intend to do such a thing. Benzai had nothing less than full trust, that Akiyama would follow him wherever he went._

_(And the strangest thing about it was, though Benzai knew he was leading he felt sometimes as though Akiyama was the one walking in front of him, pulling him on.)_

_It wasn't far. His clothes were a mess, his hair and his skin, and all his muscles ached in a way they hadn't in a long time. Benzai kept his face forward, his head high and his fingers laced with Akiyama's between, and walked forward._

_He felt the body behind him waver, almost swept away by a sudden swell, and Benzai tightened his grip._

“I'll be the lighthouse, so you be my anchor.”

_If there was anything that kept him rooted fast, always, it was Akiyama. If there was anything that gave him any constancy, it was Akiyama. If there was anything at all that he was worth and that he was, it was as the person who Akiyama had placed full trust in, the person who had a mental catalog of all those small stress reactions and knew what that gaze looked like with both eyes visible, who knew the way Akiyama's cigarettes smelled and had memorized the spots on his body that were the most sensitive to touch._

_An anchor, and Benzai dragged Akiyama forward into light._

–

“---!”

His body jerked up roughly with a wordless gasp, dimly aware of the sound of machines beeping wildly around him. It took Benzai's eyes a moment to adjust to the light of the room, to focus on everything around him – the plain white hospital gown that he wore, the IVs and cables attached to his skin, the sterile white walls of the hospital and the wide-eyed faces of Kamo and Enomoto at his bedside.

“Wha...?” Benzai put a hand to his head, feeling dizzy even as his breathing began to slow down to normal. He could hear Enomoto saying something to him in soft yet urgent tones, but his brain couldn't seem to pick up the words. “What happened to...?”

“Benzai.” Kamo was looking at him straight on, eyes serious and severe even though there was a definite hint of relief in the lines of his face. “Do you remember what happened? You and Akiyama were attacked by a Strain.”

“A Strain...” Benzai repeated slowly, trying to recall. He remembered leaving headquarters that morning on a mission with Akiyama and some of the other members of the force, trying to hunt down a criminal Strain whose power had already left five people in a coma. They'd cornered the Strain in an alley, and then...

And then...

“Akiyama-san tried to push you out of the way,” Enomoto said quietly. “But there wasn't enough room to dodge. You both have been in the hospital for two days now, we were worried that--”

_“Akiyama-san tried to push you out of the way”_ and suddenly Benzai's heart was pounding again as it came flooding back to him, Akiyama's voice yelling at him to get out of the way and hands on his shoulders, the sensation of something slamming into him and then falling through a sea of flower petals into dark snow and frozen water – and the feel of Akiyama's hand, frozen and holding tight to his own.

“Akiyama!” Benzai's head whipped around, a sudden surge of panic that he couldn't swallow down rushing through him, and he heard Kamo and Enomoto try to speak again as his eyes rested on the form lying in the bed beside him.

Akiyama's eyes were closed, his body hooked up to the same series of machines and IVs as Benzai's own. His hair looked soft and his face peaceful, chest lightly rising and falling as he slept. Benzai reached for him, hands trembling slightly, all the usual composure gone.

“Himor--” His fingers were a hairsbreadth from Akiyama's face and suddenly Akiyama stirred, face momentarily scrunching up in something like pain before his eyelashes fluttered and his eyes opened slowly, staring up foggily at Benzai.

“Benzai...?” A slow lazy smile crossed Akiyama's face and Benzai felt all the tension immediately leave his body as he fell back against his own bed in relief.

“We'll get the doctor.” Kamo eyed them for a moment and then gestured to Enomoto and the two of them left the room, leaving Benzai and Akiyama alone.

“Are you all right?” Benzai asked as Akiyama gingerly propped himself up a bit on his pillows. He didn't appear to be in any pain as far as Benzai could tell, at least, but he wanted to be sure.

“A little stiff,” Akiyama admitted, stretching a bit as if to illustrate. “But other than that I feel fine. How are you?”

“I'm all right.” Benzai paused for a moment, considering. “Do you remember what happened?”

“The Strain attacked you,” Akiyama said, his face suddenly set and serious. “I'm sorry I couldn't get you out of the way in time.”

“Don't be ridiculous.” It was almost automatic, how quickly the words came to him. “...Anything else? Did you...” Benzai swallowed and a slightly sardonic smile curved its way across his face. “Did you have any odd dreams?”

Akiyama didn't reply for a moment, eyes hooded, but when he looked up he was smiling so softly that it made Benzai wonder why the machines still attached to him hadn't caught the way his heart skipped a beat.

“You led me out,” Akiyama said. “Thank you, Benzai.”

“I led...” Benzai shook his head. “You showed me the way, didn't you? You always do. Is that why you stepped into the path of the Strain's power?”

“I wasn't really thinking about it at the time,” Akiyama admitted. “But I saw the reports, of the people who had been attacked. There was one couple who woke up, all on their own, at the same time. So I thought...perhaps, if we were together...”

“You thought you'd be a lighthouse?” Benzai said quietly.

“And I trusted that you would be my anchor,” Akiyama said. “After all, haven't you always been?”

“Don't put yourself in danger like that again,” Benzai said severely and Akiyama laughed, carefully leveraging himself up on the edge of his bed so that he could reach over and touch a hand to Benzai's cheek. His fingers were warm and Benzai leaned down without any conscious thought at all, his own hand pressing against Akiyama's.

“I couldn't let you go alone, could I?” Akiyama murmured. “We're together, you know. I couldn't possibly let you go anywhere alone, not after everything. Who knows what trouble you'd get into?”

Benzai felt a small laugh escape him, a product of relief and happiness as his fingers entwined with Akiyama's, his hand fitting in Akiyama's so perfectly it was as if their hands had always been meant to be pressed together.

_“I'll be the lighthouse, so you be my anchor,”_ and Benzai angled his head downwards into Akiyama's kiss.


End file.
